


Unwanted

by Primul



Category: Romance - Fandom
Genre: Abuse, Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Angst, Anxiety, Blood, Child Abuse, Comfort, Death, Depressing, Depression, Family, Hurt, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Protectiveness, Relationship(s), Romance, Sad, Self-Denial, Self-Harm, Sexual Content, Slow Burn, Social Anxiety, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-24
Updated: 2016-05-24
Packaged: 2018-06-10 11:56:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,518
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6955576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Primul/pseuds/Primul
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bailey is a 15 year old girl in high school. She has many secrets that she has been hiding for several years. A boy, Terrance, comes into her life. Will he find out her secrets? What will she do? She's never had much contact with people. Will he find out everything about her?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Bailey's POV**

      My head hangs down as I navigate myself through the school library. The tips of my fingers run over the old dusky books on the bookshelves. My eyes are scanning for one in particular. I can over the B and C section until I finally find the one I've been looking for. I let out a sigh of relief as I take the book I found and walk up to the librarian's desk. I could've asked for help, but I didn't want to be too much of a bother. I take the book in my hand and open my bag to place the book inside. I readjust my strap and make my way down the hall, trying to get to 7th period. My last class, I thought, I just had to make it through this last class.

      I'm walking through the hallway trying my best to make it to Mrs. Moore's class on time. I walk quickly with my head down, trying not to draw too much attention to myself. Suddenly I feel a body bump into me. I turn to see who it is, and there he is, Jacob. Jacob has fire in his eyes as he looks at me. I feel my heart start to race and my face turn red. I give him a simple "sorry" and walk as quickly as I can, trying to get far away from him.

      I'm halfway to Mrs. Moore's class, no one is around me. I feel someone grab me by the shoulder and jerk me backwards. I fall to the floor and my head hits it. I hold my head in my hands, thinking that the pain would go away, but it didn't. I'm jerked back up to my feet roughly, and there is Jacob, staring at me with that evil grin. I know what's coming. It's that time again where I've pissed him off and I deserve my beating. He takes me into an empty room that used to be used for special education classes. He throws me onto the floor of the classroom and kicks me in the ribs. I feel a wave of pain and I clutch at my ribcage. He then gets down onto the floor and holds my arms above my head with one hand while slapping me with the other. I squirm trying to get free of his grip. 

      Jacob eyes are fiery as he says, "What is it bitch? You know you deserve this you worthless piece of shit." He takes both of his hands and puts them on my neck. I struggle trying to breathe.

      "J-Jacob," I try pushing his hands away but it's no use. "Jacob," I struggle, "please st-stop." My throat starts to burn, and my mouth is dry. I try again to push his hands away from my neck, but it once again fails.

      Jacob releases my neck and I gasp for air. He stands up and kicks me again. This time in my thigh, and I scream out in pain. Jacob let's out another evil laugh and tears start burning my eyes and my cheeks as they run down my face. He opens the door while muttering horrible names under his breath before slamming it behind him. I quickly crawl to the corner and pull my knees to my chest, crying in them. I taste the salt of my tears and I feel them dripping down my chin. My entire body is aching and my throat is burning. I grab a desk that was sitting next to me to help pull myself up. I walk over to where my bag was sitting and I cringe as I bend down to pick it up. I put the bag over my shoulder and readjust the strap. I slowly walk to the door of the room and walk out just as the last bell of the day rings, notifying the students that we can go home now.

      I walk out of the school and go over to the walkway, waiting to cross the street. The walking light finally turns green and I quickly walk across the street. Right before I reach the other side of the street, a boy almost hits me with his car. I look over, terrified, but at the same time I was wishing he would've ran me over. He raises his eyebrows at me, as if to ask if I'm all right. I give him a slight smile and wave. I quickly walk away and try my best to get home before my father does.

      After a while of walking, I finally see my house just down the street. My father's car isn't home so I still have time to make his dinner and get cleaned up. I walk to the front door of my house and struggle to get the keys out of my bag. My hand shakes as I put the key in and turn it. I open the door and quickly go upstairs to my bedroom. I set my bag down beside my desk and walk to my bathroom. I lift up my shirt to see a bruise all ready beginning to form on my ribcage. There is an outline of a hand on my right cheek and my eyes are puffy and bloodshot from crying. I turn the sink on and cup my hand under the water and then splash it onto my face. The cool water gives me relief under my eyes and makes me less tired.

      I enter my bedroom and take off my clothes. I see myself in the mirror and I see all the bruises and scars. I look away and quickly put on a gray shirt and black sweatpants and then make my way to the kitchen. I open the fridge and take out tomato sauce. I set two pots on the stove, one filled with water and turn the stove on. I dump the tomato sauce into one pan and grab a box of dried noodles out of the cabinet. I dump the noodles into the boiling water and start to stir the tomato sauce.

      Once all of the food is finished cooking, I turn the stove down a few notches just to keep it warm till my dad comes home. I grab a bottle of water from the fridge and race upstairs into my bedroom. I sit down on my bed and take a few sips of my water before walking to my desk to work on homework. I pull out my notebook and start to write an outline for an essay that was due in English by Wednesday, which means I only had today and tomorrow to work on it. I finish one page of the essay and rub my eyes, trying to stay awake. Eventually, I give up and curl up in my bed.

      I lay in my bed awake for a few minutes, and then I look at my alarm clock. Only 8:45pm? I hear the front door open and slam shut. Dad is home 15 minutes early. I close my eyes and hug my knees. I pray that tonight wouldn't be like the previous ones. I close my eyes, and before I know it, I fall asleep. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Terrance's POV**

      I pull into my driveway at 12:04am. Damn, that party was rough. That girl I almost hit on my way to the party, what the fuck was wrong with her? I remember the blood dripping from her nose and the cut on her lip. I wonder what happened.

      I park my car and walk to the side door of my house. I search my pockets for my keys. "Dammit," I let out a sigh, "I left my keys in the house." I try knocking on the door, but it was pointless. I knew Alex and Mom were asleep. I get my pocket knife out and cut a hole in the screen part of the door. I then slide my hand through the hole and unlock the door. I knew Alex was going to be pissed at me about the screen, but he'd just have to lecture me about it tomorrow.

      I walk down the hallway to my room and lay on my bed. I completely forgot to change out of my clothes. Before I knew it, I drifted off to sleep.

      "Terrance!" I hear knocks on the door, "Terrance!" It was my sister, Alex. "Ugh, come on! Get out of bed! It's 6:30 in the morning! You better fix the door when you get home, by the way!" Oh, the door. I completely forgot about the door. "Terrance, get your ass out of bed!" Alex yells through the door one more time before banging on it and walking away.

      I slowly roll out of bed with a major headache and take a quick shower. I then dry off and change into my black jeans, and a white adidas shirt. I slowly make my way to the kitchen, where my mom is already making breakfast. I start searching through the cabinets and drawers.

      "What are you looking for dear," my mother asks me.

      "Advil, what else," I say grumpily.

      My mom gives me a concerned look, "Bottom cabinet where it always is, Terrance." I get out the Advil and take a few of them trying to cure the pain I had in my head. I grabbed some toast and bacon that my mom cooked and quickly ate it.

      "You know, Terrance, if you didn't stay out all night and party, you wouldn't have so many headaches." My mom lectured me about staying out all night and drinking. I tried hard not to roll my eyes at her.

      "I have to go mom," I kiss my mom's cheek just before sliding my shoes on and walking out the door.

      I unlock my car and get in. I pull out of my driveway and speed down the road. I so was not wanting to go to school today. I wasn't even sure which classes I would actually attend. I was so sick of all the idiotic teachers. They all annoyed me. Especially Mrs. Moore. She was always going on about how I need to come to her class more, and about how I need to start taking school more seriously. It made me sick.

      I pull into the school parking lot and dreadfully walk into the school. I was definitely not looking forward to this long ass school day. My head was still killing me, and I knew that Avery was going to annoy me all day.

      "Terrance, hi," Speak of the devil.

      "What is it you want Avery," I keep on walking hoping she'll leave.

      "Just wanting to talk that's all, but maybe later? I have to get to first period!"

      "Whatever Avery," I say as I quickly speed up my pace. I hear her turn around and storm in the other direction. Avery was very annoying, but she was hot, I had to give her that.

      I walked to first period and took a seat at my desk. Mr. Hoffman, I hate this man.

      "Good morning class. I hope you're starting your Tuesday off well," Mr. Hoffman smiles at his class before turning to write on the chalkboard.

      "Now, get out your textbooks and turn to page 173," Mr. Hoffman instructs, "We are going to be doing a review over binomials today. I'm making this easy. Do 1 through 40 and turn it in to me, and then you're finished for today."

      Oh my gosh, this man. I despise him. I opened my textbook, but just sat there quietly. After about 53 minutes, I glanced up at the clock. 8:02. Just 8 more minutes of his class.

      Finally, the bell rings. I stand up and race out of the classroom, along with the others. I stand by my locker until the hallway has cleared up. I start to walk navigate through the few people left at their lockers. I walk up a flight of stairs, taking the steps 2 at a time. I go to turn the corner and I run into a girl.

      I hear a silent gasp coming from the girl. "I-I'm sorry," she whispers. She starts to walk away but I grab her wrist. She flinches at my actions.

      "Don't I know you from somewhere?" I ask.

      "M-me? No, I.. I don't think so." She struggles to get her words out. She takes a look at me and I see horror in her eyes. She looks terrified.

      "Aren't you the girl I almost hit with my car yesterday?"

      She looks down at her shoes and tries to pull her arm away from me. "Oh, yeah. I guess I am. C-can you please let g-go of me?"

      I let go of her wrist as she lets out a sigh of relief. "What's your name," I ask her. I don't get an answer. She just stares down at the floor, with her arms wrapped around her.

      I get frustrated and turn to walk away. "W-wait," she mutters, "Bailey. My name is Bailey." I turn back towards her and give her a slight smile. 

      "I'm Terrance," I say before turning and walking in the other direction. I meant to ask what had happened to her yesterday, but I didn't get the chance. I totally forgot. I've never really even noticed her before I almost hit her with my car. I really wonder what the fuck happened to her. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Bailey's POV**

      I kept thinking about Terrance all day. Why would he care to stop me and talk to me? Why would he even care to apologize to me? I needed to stop thinking about him so much. It's not like he was going to speak to me again. I bet he didn't give a fuck about me. Then again, who did?

      I again walked through the halls trying to get to Mrs. Moore's class. I reached the door to Mrs. Moore's class and opened it. I walked towards my seat and glanced up at Avery, who was talking to her "best friend", Gwen. Avery snickered at me as I sat down in my seat. I feel someone kick my desk. I look back to see Gwen scoffing.

      "Is it true that you're Jacob's slut," Gwen asked while trying not to laugh.

      Avery chimed in, "Jacob is so hot, why would he want anything to do with you? You're a worthless piece of shit. If you can get with him, it must be extremely easy for me." Avery turned in her seat and leaned over to whisper something to Gwen. Gwen choked back a laugh. My face felt hot as I turned to face Mrs. Moore writing on the board.

      A loud knocking on the door echoes through the classroom as Mrs. Moore glances around the classroom, looking to make sure no one is doing anything inappropriate if someone important is at the door. When Mrs. Moore slowly walks to the door another round of loud knocks float through the air. I flinch at the noise, with the classroom being quiet the transition to the noise startled me a bit.

      I don't pay any attention to who is at the door till Mrs. Moore speaks a familiar name.

      "So you're the Terrance Rodriguez that never shows up to my class?" Mrs. Moore asks, walking back to her desk picking up folder. "I don't happen to have you this period. Why are you here?" She questions while looking through the papers inside.

      "Schedule change." He states.

      Mrs. Moore plucks the paper from his hand, raising an eyebrow as she reads over it. She sighs before handing it back to him.

      "If this means that you begin attending my class daily, then welcome to World History. Take a seat." She says, returning to the board where she begins to pick up an expo marker and scribble down more words onto the board.

      I turn to the side, taking notice at the few seats around the classroom before glancing up at Terrance. As soon as I look up at him, he looks up, and his eyes meet mine. A small smirk plays across his lips as he starts walking in my direction.

      Wow Bailey, smart move. I sarcastically compliment myself.

      A frown takes over, and I start feeling uncomfortable as he takes a seat in the chair to my right. My insides churn when I look at him to find him staring at me. He doesn't make any move to look away; if anything he stares harder.

      I decide not to look at him again, and instead position my body to the left so that I'm sitting away from him. The noise in the classroom starts up again; conversations going back and forth, the constant sound of pages being flipped, overall just the loud mumbling. Mrs. Moore clears her throat as she begins passing out a stack of worksheets before assigning us the textbook pages.

      "As you know we are on the topic of imperialism. These worksheets will benefit you, as they give an insight to the upcoming test in 2 weeks. Answer the pages on the sheet after you have read pages 781 through 788 of your American History textbooks and keep these sheets for review." She instructs.

      A few people groan and a few others get to work right away. I turn around in my chair, slipping my bag off the back of it, and placing it in my lap. The heaviness pains my thighs so I'm forced to drop it on the floor and pull out the giant textbook from the bag. My bones scream at me as I lean over. Placing the textbook on the desk, I flip open the book and set my worksheet to the side, repositioning myself into my usual slumped down posture. My head hangs down, staring intently at the pages, and my hair falls around my face like a curtain.

      My right arm is placed on the page, ready to turn to the next page after I'm done reading, and my left arm is draped across my desk, dangling my pen up and down. I hear the screeching of a chair but ignore it as I turn to the next page.

      I gasp when my book is swiped from my desk and help away from my reach by none other than Terrance. I tilt my head up, trying to reach for the book anyway. For a second I glance at Terrance, his mouth formed into a scowl and curiosity form in his eyes.

      "What happened to your face?" He asks bluntly.

      Some giggles are heard, traveling through the classroom at his question. I'm quick to pull my hair forward and stare back at him.

      "N-nothing." I stammer, "Pl-please, I need my book back." I hold out my hands, waiting for him to hand over the heavy book. He instead takes the book and sets it down on his desk, far away on the left side. Just as he opens his mouth to say something, he gets interrupted.

      "Terrance!" A feminine voice calls out. Terrance turns his head, his attention no longer on me.

      I take that small moment to turn in my seat and grab my book. I place it far away from Terrance on my desk. I press my lips together when I glance back as I hear a squeaky laugh. It was Avery. She sits with her legs crossed, one over the other, leaning in with her arms crossed over her chest. Her long, black hair was straightened to perfection, her face was pretty, and overall she looked like a model. Too bad her personality was the worst.

      She was the most stuck up person ever. Currently, she was staring at Terrance like she wanted to rip his clothes off. Her arms become uncrossed as she begins to run her hands up and down Terrance's arm. She stares at him, batting her eyelashes and even pouting at times, that is until she looks over at me. In a panic to act, as if I'm not staring I whip around in my seat. A sharp pain travels throughout my body as I bite down on my lip, trying very hard not to cry out.

      I sit there for a few minutes, looking up and checking the clock above the board.

      1:53.

      Sighing, I get back to work, jotting down answers on my worksheet, ignoring all the conversations going on around me. 2:00 could not get here faster.

      When the bell finally rings, signaling the end of seventh period, students rush to get out of the classroom, myself included. Hurrying out of the room, my book and my folder held in my arms, I make my way towards my last class of the day. Walking fast, I lose my footing, causing me to drop my book and my folder. Papers fall out from the folder, dropping everywhere across the floor as people carelessly walk right on top of them. I close my eyes for a second, taking a deep breath as I slowly bend down to pick up my things.

      After I've collected what I can and stand up, I make a smarter decision of putting everything into my bag. It takes me a minute, shoving things around, making room for the larger book, and when I'm done I look up to find the hallway almost empty. There are a few people standing at their lockers, rummaging around, trying to make it to their classes.

      I look down as I walk past them. Halfway up the staircase, my leg cries out in pain. My grip on the railing tightens as I catch a cramp in my leg. I hiss in agony when I try to walk anyway. I'm forced to sit down on the dirty steps and wait it out. The late bell rings but it doesn't matter, there's no way I'm going to make it to last period now.

      Every now and then for the past twenty minutes I give my leg a small shake, but pain shoots through and I give up and go back to fumbling with my fingers. A sharp pain escapes my mouth when I feel someone touch my shoulder.

      "You don't seem like the type to skip class." Terrance declares, letting out a low breath as he bends down to sit next to me. Guess I was too distracted to notice his footsteps.

      I remain quiet, silently freaking out at the fact that he's sitting next to me.

      "Why are you here?" I blurt out.

      He raises an eyebrow at me.

      "I-I mean, why are you here? Why are you sitting d-down next to me, and trying to talk to me?"

      "I remember getting your name," he says slowly while sliding closer to me, "I can't really remember it though."

      "It's Bailey." I mumble.

      I scoot back, only to have my back hit the wall and my leg scream in pain, I wince at the feeling.

      "Are you okay?"

      "I hurt my leg." I answer, looking down.

      He was staring at me again. His piercing green eyes were trained on my face, and it makes my skin crawl. Suddenly, he leans over me, taking both my wrists and holding them against the wall.

      "I know that you-"

      "Mr. Rodriguez, I for one know that you are terrible at keeping promises, but you really can't stay out of trouble for just one minute can you?"

      Terrance huffs, slowly dropping my wrists as I turn my head to the side to see who it is. It turns out to be Mr. Jones, the principal. He crosses his arms over his brown suit, tapping one foot as he glares at us through his glasses.

      "What's going on here," He asks, his voice beaming with authority.

      I turn back to Terrance, and he looks at me. He slightly tilts his head to the side, gesturing that he wants me to give an answer.

      "I-I hurt my leg and I couldn't make it up the stairs." I answer quietly.

      "And just where do you come into this situation Terrance?"

      "I was running late to class. I found Bailey here and was about to take her to the n-"

      "Why were you running late?" Mr. Jones interrupts.

      "I had to get some stuff from my locker." Terrance shoots back.

      "Funny, I don't see anything on you. No books, no folders. I suggest you come up with me for a more reasonable explanation as to why you're not in class at this moment."

      "If I had to get a book or folder, I would've said it, fucking idiot." Terrance mutters under his breath.

      My eyes widen at the insult. The hallways were uncomfortably silent, and there was no doubt in my mind that Mr. Jones heard that.

      "What did you say," Mr. Jones barks out, taking a few steps closer. "If not, then what were you getting? Cigarettes? Weed? I'm not stupid Terrance, and by now I can certainly tell when you're lying."

      I glance at Terrance. His posture was stiff and his fists were clenched. He was silently fuming, like some bomb ready to explode.

      "I would wait for another answer, but then it would certainly be a lie that I'm not interested in hearing. Both of you, office. Now." Mr. Jones demands.

      My mouth drops open, forming an 'O' shape. Why do I have to go? Terrance might have been lying, but I wasn't. I grab onto the rail, forcing myself up. The cramp is still there, and it hurts like hell to walk down the stairs. I wince each time my knee bends, until Terrance roughly grabs my hand and rushes me down off the stairs.

      I stand a few feet away from Terrance, limping quietly behind Mr. Jones. When we enter his office, he gestures for us to sit down in the chairs opposite of him. I sit down as Mr. Jones begins to open up one of his desk drawers. Pulling out a pad of slips, he then reaches for a pen out of a pencil holder and clicks the top.

      "Terrance, I'm sure you know this drill already." He says as he scribbles on the paper, rips it from the pad, and hands it to Terrance.

      "As for you," he says clasping his hands and turning towards me, "Considering I don't recall ever seeing you in my office before, I'll let you off this time."

      I sigh in relief. At the same time, Terrance rolls his eyes.

      "What seems to be the problem?" Mr. Jones directs towards Terrance.

      "Nothing." Logan says shifting his position in the chair.

      Mr. Jones seems fed up and finally waves us off, telling us we can leave. I hop out of my seat, limping away from his office as fast as I can. I readjust the strap of my bag, checking the clock above the wall.

      2:37.

      Good. Less than ten minutes left of school, and then I can leave. I push open the door that leads to the hallways, and head towards my locker. Just as I start to turn my lock, my hand is ripped off of it and my body is pulled away from my locker.

      "What are you doing?" I squeak out, staring at the back of Terrance's head. He cocks his head to the side, his brown hair glowing has the light from the window hits it.

      "You hurt your leg, I said i was taking you to the nurse. So, I'm taking you to the nurse." He responds.

      "You're h-hurting my arm," I stutter.

      "Tell the nurse to put some ice on it then." He balls up the small slip of paper and shoots it into the garbage bin in the corner.

      I gulp, looking at my feet as they trip over one another trying to keep up with his pace. He knocks on the nurse's door loudly and rapidly, but no one comes to the door.

      "Why are you-" I open my mouth, but I get interrupted.

      "Why did you attempt to lie to me?" He questions.

      "W-what?" I ask genuinely confused.

      "Why did you attempt to lie to me?" His grip on my arm gets tighter.

      "Please st-stop that." I stammer, shaking my arm out of his grip, only to be backed up against the wall, "I d-don't know what you're talking about."

      "Oh really? You don't remember almost getting hit by a car and attempting to lie about it to me?" He asks sarcastically.

      "No I don't re-"

      "Quit lying Bailey. I saw you, and you saw me. Stop acting as if you don't know me at all," He snaps, "I saw you bleeding and-"

      "Just drop it!" I beg, getting fed up. "One of the drama club's makeup artists asked i-if she could p-practice on me. S-so I let her." I lie, "That b-blood and stuff was fake."

      "What about today then?" He asks, tucking the hair blocking the bruise behind my ear.

      "I-I don't know. Allergic reaction?"

      "I don't think allergic reactions do this to you." He remarks, staring at me straight in the eyes.

      "Well-"

      The door suddenly flies open, the nurse peering her head through the door. Her eyes widen when she catches our certain position and she clears her throat. Terrance backs 2 steps away from me, but not entirely off of me.

      "What seems to be the problem?" The nurse asks, eyeing us up and down.

      "She hurt her leg." Terrance answers, and I limp away from him to prove his point.

      The nurse holds out her hands and I place mine on top of hers as she helps guide me into the little medical room and helps me to sit up on the tiny medical bed. Terrance stands behind her with his arms crossed, a scowl appears on his face. I tell her where the pain is coming from and she announces that she will get some ice and be right back. I keep my hands folded on my lap and look at them, avoiding Terrance's stare.

      The bell rings, and startles me, considering the room was so quiet a few seconds ago. Slowly I look up, my eyes connecting with his.

      "I think y-you should g-go now." I say, lifting my hand and gesturing to the door.

      The nurse comes busting back into the room, the ice pack wrapped in a towel as she hands it to me. She wipes her hands with the tiny, brown paper towels sitting on the table before exiting the room. Terrance walks up to me, taking the ice pack out of my hands and placing it on the space next to me before leaning over me.

      "Answer my question."

      "Why do you care so much?"

      "Stop avoiding the topic."

      "T-Terrance," I say looking up at him, "Can you p-please just leave me alone? Nothing about me concerns you."

      "Well then we can just act like it does." He states, stepping back and handing me the ice pack.

      "No, I'd rather not." I say leaning back to touch the wall.

      Why is he still here? Why can't he leave already? I press the ice against my leg and my eyes shut as the coolness relieves the pain. I stay like that for a few seconds, and then when I open my eyes, Terrance is still there. He eyes me up and down, his gaze lingering on my face, more precisely on the bruise for a few extra seconds before he just turns around and leaves.

      His footsteps echo through the quiet room and disappear into the loud hallway. I slump down, letting out a small breath I didn't know I was holding in. I want to go home.


	4. Chapter 4

**Bailey's POV**

I slip out of my room, quietly making it down the steps and into the kitchen in search of something to eat. My stomach sounded like a volcano erupting, making me unable to sleep. My hands touch the top of the counter, slighting peering over the fruit bowl that rests on top of it. There were 2 bananas, an apple, and a couple of oranges. I move over to the fridge, opening it, and checking what's inside. There's barely anything inside, which reminds me I need to go grocery shopping. Maybe later tomorrow.

      I grab the milk out of the fridge and then grab the box of mini wheats out of the cabinet and a bowl. I pour the cereal, spilling some onto the floor. When I've assembled my little bowl of cereal, I clean up and make my way to the dining room table to sit down and eat. My dad hasn't come home yet, but he always come home late on Fridays. It was probably eleven in the night right now, and it makes me wonder what every one else is doing right now with their Friday night.

      Are they partying and drinking? Are they just at home doing nothing?

      These thoughts continue to float around in my head as I munch on my cereal. After finishing, I slump down and let out a deep breath.

      For the next couple hours I sit around the house in numerous places. At one pint I take out my laptop and play music so I'm not that bored. My feet tap against the floor to a Melanie Martinez song as I scroll down my news feed on Facebook. It's pretty obvious my account isn't really me. Just a fake name and a picture of a puppy for the profile picture, which surprisingly people don't seem to care about when they accept my friend requests. Evidently they aren't my friends, but I need to be entertained by something or else I'll go mad in this house by myself.

      Just out of curiosity, I click on the search bar and type in a name.

      Terrance Rodriguez.

      His profile pops up and I click on his pictures. There are a couple selfies which are oddly centered, taken from the worst angles ever. Then are some which, I'll admit, he does look nice in. He's not ugly. I click the arrow and come upon a party picture. His arm is draped around a red head dressed in a short white dress. There are other people in the same picture too. Some have their tongues out, others are throwing up peace signs and whatnot. I glance at Terrance again, inspecting the picture more closely. His green eyes shine brightly, and his black t-shirt comes off a bit transparent showing off his muscles. He's smiling, showing off his straight teeth. His hair is all over the place, falling over his forehead but in a way that kind of works for him.

      I hear the front door open and slam. I hastily close my laptop, jumping up from the couch. Footsteps sound through the hallway and then stop. Probably went into the bathroom. I take my chance, tiptoeing as quietly as I can up the stairs and into my room. I place my laptop gently down on my desk before sprinting across my room and into my bed.

      Slowing down the pace of my breathing my ears twitch at the sound of him approaching. I turn on my side, slipping my hand under my pillows and shutting my eyes tight.

      "Please, please don't come in here." I whisper to no one.

      My heart clenches in my chest as I imagine what will happen if he does. He didn't do anything last night. Please let it be the same as last night. My silent wishing interrupted by a loud banging.

      "Bailey!" His slurred voice drawls out.

      Oh god. He's drunk.

      "Open the god damn door!" He shouts, twisting the door knob. He bangs a couple more times before finally stopping.

      Or at least I think he stopped. A jingling of keys makes my fears rise. He doesn't have a key does he? It's not possible. I took his and hid it where he never goes. In the basement. It's filled with all of moms stuff, he never goes down there.

      But he's drunk. Maybe he still thinks he has the keys.

      Just to be safe, I quietly slip off my bed and roll underneath it. My hiding spot, I listen closely as the door shakes and rattles, the loud pounds that come followed shortly after.

      "Bailey!" He shouts at the top of his lungs. "Fucking open the door!"

      I lay down on the floor staring across my room waiting for him to go away. It takes a couple of minutes before I hear him stomp down the hallway. I stay on the floor for a few more minutes just to be cautious before crawling back onto my bed. After I calm myslef down and am about to fall asleep a loud bam noise makes me shoot up. I turn to look at my door to see it pushing forward.

      Is he trying to break the lock?

      I jump out of my bed, standing at the side of my door. I peep through the tiny crack to find him repeatedly hitting my door with a hammer. What the hell?

      "If you don't open this door," Bang, "I swear to God," Bang, "That you won't fucking live to see tomorrow!" Bang.

      I step back completely horrified. Should I really open it? But he can't get in. He'll break the hammer before he breaks down the door. How can he hurt me if he can't get near me?

      Tears prick the back of my eyes as all these questions swirl around in my mind. My heart pounds in my chest as I step forward, inching closer to the door. My hand touches the doorknob at the same exact moment the hammer pounds against the door. Shock runs through me from the force that pushes my door forward. Still, like an idiot, I keep my grip on the door. I turn the lock, gently pulling the door back.

      Looking up I see my dad, his chest heaving up and down as he flings the hammer forward at me. I duck down but the back of the hammer hits the top of my forehead. Pain rings through, sending me towards the floor. I fall down flat but quickly and dizzily rush to stand back up. I can feel the blood oozing down from my forehead. I reach up to touch it, and sure enough the thick, red substance is there, continuing to run down all the way to my nose.

      "Hey!" His loud voice yells out. I look up immediately. His large figure was standing right in my doorway, staring at me with deadly eyes.

      He stomps over to me, grabbing my shirt.

      "You dumb girl!" His hand sweeps over my forehead, smearing the blood.

      I lift my legs up, kicking him. I hit him in the knee, and fire ignites in his eyes.

      "Bailey." He growls out. "You dumb, dumb little bitch." His hands grab my hair, pulling it forward and then letting it go. The impact sends me under, but I scramble once again, getting up and running out of my room.

      I can hear his large feet pounding against the hardwood floor as he chases me. Behind me he was shouting profanities, throwing in some about my mother, but I ignore them. I turn the corner and run into the bathroom, my socks slipping on the wood as I do so. I slam the door and lock it, pushing my weight against it. I ignore all the pain that returns to my body as he rams his weight against the door. I know that the door is locked, but this door is made with a weak type of wood, I know that because he's broken down this door before. I also know that because I was left to fix it while he was at work and the cheap, weak wood was the only kind I could afford.

      He keeps on pushing and pushing but the door doesn't budge. At least not yet it doesn't.

      "Ah! Fuck!" I hear him cry out.

      The door stops rattling and I drop to the tiled floor. I peep through the open space to see him sitting against the floor cradling his shoulder. It was bleeding. The wood must have fallen off a bit and scraped him.

      I sigh again, but it's more relaxed this time. I run my hands over my face again, disgusted by the blood still running. Twisting the faucet on, I cup water into my hands, washing off the blood. After drying, I inspected the cut. It was an average sized cut, running from the top of my forehead on the left end side. Slanted.

      "Well." I huff out. "No way I'm leaving this room tonight." Not with my dad still outside.

      "I bend down and grab an extra towel from the cabinet, spreading it out on the floor. Looks like I'm sleeping in here tonight.

 

 

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

 

 

      I'm currently sitting in a chair downstairs in the kitchen, swirling my spoon around in the bowl of milk. After last night things went back to the way things always are. Just like they normally do. After waking up on the tiled floor, I immediately took a shower and brushed my teeth.

      When I walked downstairs after changing into a pair of loose blue jeans and a gray sweatshirt, I found my dad in the kitchen eating cereal. He ignored me flat out, just like he always does in the mornings. The only attention I get from his is during beatings. Then, just before he left for work, he adjusted his tie, his cuff links, and slapped a hundred dollar bill on the counter right in front of me. It startled me to say the least.

      I didn't look up to acknowledge him, I heard him grumble about groceries because apparently "we have nothing in this house."

      So now here I am, leaning back against the wooden chair, my cereal bowl pushed out in front of me as I write a list of things to get at the store. When I am done, I slip off the chair and head up to my room to grab a pair of shoes.

      Once my converse are on, I push open the front door leaning halfway out to test out the weather. Do I really need a jacket? But this sweatshirt is already so thick. I decide against the jacket and slip out of the house with the money and list in my front pocket. It takes me a good fifteen minute walk to get to Shoppers World. There are a few cars in the parking lot, but it's still early. Maybe eight thirty in the morning. On a Saturday.

      I walk through the automatic doors and instantly the cold air envelopes me and hits my ankles. I grab a cart and start pushing it around the store.

      After grabbing the easiest items and placing them in the cart I move to the harder ones. More specifically, the items placed on the high shelves, where I can't reach. Most of the time I'm stuck and just end up not getting what I need to because I don't wan to ask workers for help.

      The Shoppers World near us was pretty large and you could easily lose children. I mean, really lose children. Most of what I see when I come is mothers running around, abandoning their carts and baskets because they've lost their children. Today most of what I've seen is mainly old people, cranky workers, and few middle aged and young people.

      I push my cart up the aisle that carries boxes with cupcake mix, brownie mix, oatmeal, pasta, stuff like that. I stretch up, reaching for the small box of rigatoni pasta. I manage to hit one down and into the cart. I them move over a little towards the right to get some spaghetti. Someone already took the two boxes that are in the front row so I stretch my hand back really far. The only thing that happens is me, pushed up against the metal racks, looking like an idiot. I get off my tippy toes and sigh in defeat. I grab my cart and swerve it into the dairy aisle.

      My mood is dampened over the fact that I couldn't reach spaghetti. Isn't that rich? Out of all the things there are in my life to be upset about, I'm upset because I couldn't reach spaghetti. When I look up, my feet instantly freeze. All the way down the aisle nearing the meat section, is Terrance. His hands were stuffed into his jean pockets, an his black hoodie hung down. His hair was wet and his face mirrored the same expression as most of the workers here. Tired and angry. Standing next to him was an older man. He was about two inches shorter than Terrance, dressed in clothes way too formal for a supermarket. His hair was slightly gray here and there but managed to still look kind of young. Like one of the guys from those commercials where they advertise gray hair dye or something.

      Currently they were arguing, and since there was barely anyone else here it was pretty easy to hear the argument loud and clear. Of course music was playing from the speakers, but not loudly. The sound of them arguing over David Guetta on the speakers was odd, but then again it's none of my business. And better for me to just get what I need so I can leave. Now that I know he's here I'm most definitely going to avoid him. I swivel back around and look down over the items, quickly grabbing milk, eggs, and yogurt.

      I walked back down the aisle of boxes. I stare up at the spaghetti. Maybe just one more shot at it? I step on the bottom part of the cart, reaching up to grab the spaghetti. It's become so serious that I was now on my tippy toes biting on my tongue in hopes of grabbing one. All of a sudden, something brushes on my back catching me off guard. A hand runs over mine grabbing the box of spaghetti.

      I lose my balance on the cart and end up falling backwards on the floor. A grunt floats through the air and I clamber onto my knees turning around to see that I've fallen on top of Terrance. His long legs were strewn across the aisle floor, his hand running through his wet hair.

      Oh my god.

      I fell. I fell on top of Terrance.

      "I'm sorry!" i squeak out. He leans out on his elbows and opens his eyes. His eyes pierce through mine and straightaway I feel more than intimidated.

      "I'm sorry." I repeat again, more quiet this time. "I didn't realize you were behind me. I-I um, lost my balance. I-"

      "It's alright." He says cutting me off.

      He stands up, brushing himself off before he hands me the box of spaghetti.

      "Uh, thanks." I tuck a piece of my hair behind my ear before taking it from him and placing it in the cart. "So, Um, B-"

      "What ha-"

      "Terrance!" The man I saw earlier arguing with Terrance now stands behind him, his face contorted with anger. "Why the hell-" He pauses for a second, staring at me and then back at logan before shaking his head.

      "Listen, I need to leave right now or else I'll be late at the corp. There's going to be traffic if I don't go so it's up to you to get your mom's stuff. Good luck!" He says sarcastically, shoving a basket into Terrance's hand and patting his shoulder.

      "Hey asshole. How am I supposed to get home?" Logan snapped.

      The man turns around shoving his phone up in the air.

      "Patrick is dropping the car by."

      Terrance opens his mouth to respond and I turn around, not sure if I should stay anymore. I push my cart forward and start to walk away when Terrance's arm takes hold of my wrist.

      "Wait." He orders at me. So I just stand there, waiting for him to finish his conversation. When the man turns around and starts walking towards the shop exit. Terrance drops his hand from my wrist.

      "Help me find this stuff." He says shoving his phone in my hand. I look down at the screen and scroll down the page. The items are simple as flour, eggs, apples. He doesn't know where to find those?

      I hand him back his phone and a scowl crosses his face.

      "I'm sorry. I, I have to finish and-"

      "How about a deal?" He cuts me off once more.

      "What?" I ask dumbfounded.

      "You help me, I help you."

      "What?" I ask once again.

      "Help you get things you can't reach." He states slowly, as I can't understand what he's saying.

      "I don't n-need-"

      "Sure." He says sarcastically. "What are you anyways? Four foot one?" he scoffs.

      "No. I'm five foot two." I mumble softly rubbing my hands together.

      Terrance raises one of his eyebrows at me. I look down at the floor, biting my lip before turning around and pushing away my cart.

      "Wait come back." He commands once again.

      This time I don't listen. I keep pushing my cart. The sound of his sneakers hitting the ground behind me are the only thing I hear before my arm is pulled backwards. A hiss escapes my mouth at the pain that flows through my arm. I snatch my arm back, but his grip follows.

      "Bai c'mon." I stare down at the ground, trying to ignore the nickname that just came out of his mouth.

      He's standing there too close to me, to the point where something uneasy floods my insides. The only time someone is the close to me is when things get physical. I step backwards, bumping into the handle of the cart.

      "Hey," He mumbles. When I look up at him he's staring intently at the top of my head. His hand runs up to the top of my head, using his thumb to brush away some hair on my forehead. He was standing so close to me. And he was touching me like this. Why?

      "What happened here?" He questions, lightly touching the cut that appeared from last night. His green orbs were burning holes into my blue ones.

      Then, something just snapped.

      I shut my eyes, taking a deep breath before opening my mouth.

      "Terrance, leave me alone." I open my eyes to see him staring at me like I just spoke the most vile thing he's ever heard. I hold my hands up, removing his hands from my face.

      "What?" He asks.

      "Leave me alone. Stop asking me all these questions. I don't know you. I-I told you before that nothing about me concerns you. Stop trying to pry." I muttered lowly.

      I don't bother looking back up before grabbing the handle of my cart and rushing away from him.


End file.
